Turn Around, Bright Eyes
by Disney's Darling
Summary: "Sebastian's in denial about being in love with Blaine. Sort of. Kind of." But he knows he'll never have him, and it just kills him inside. Unrequited Seblaine. Rated for mentions of sex, but no smut.


Turn Around, Bright Eyes

**A/N:** I love Sebastian. I want him to end up with Blaine; am I the only one convinced that he does have feelings (especially for Blaine) under that snarky façade? Seriously, we need to cut him a break. And also he's awesome and better than _Santana_ at tearing people down (see **Michael**). But since so far he's a pretty two-dimensional character, thought I'd share my more fleshed-out headcanon. Spot the references to Santana and Cobra Starship! (I had You Make Me Feel… on repeat as I wrote this.)

(Heavily) inspired by To Get To The Heart by **a crime so low**. The lacrosse thing is taken from a line in that, since I thought it was cute.

Probably non-canon by now, but hey.

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Sebastian's in denial about being in love with Blaine. Sort of. Kind of. Oh, who's he kidding? Not himself, that's for sure. He _loves_ Blaine, which is scary because Sebastian's never _loved_ anyone before, and wants him for himself even though Blaine is hopelessly, irreversibly taken. But Sebastian knows too well that it'll never happen. One, he can't even convince Blaine to drop the boyfriend for _one friggin' night_ and have sex with him (and Sebastian can convince _anyone_ to have sex with him). Two, Sebastian's learnt his lesson about love and romance; _if _they exist, and aren't actually severe self-delusion as Sebastian believes, they aren't for him. Because three, that's not how things work. And four, that's not how _Sebastian _works.

And to think it all started with Sebastian wondering what Blaine would look like in his lacrosse jersey. Which led to Sebastian imagining how cute Blaine would look, with the sleeves too long for his arms and the hem coming down to his knees because Blaine is so adorably short, which led to Sebastian wanting Blaine to put his stupid preppy cardigans over his own shoulders when it was cold. And that startles Sebastian, because that's a couple-y sort of thing. And Sebastian doesn't do couple-y sort of things. Because Sebastian knows better.

It's not like secretly, deep down, way deep down where diamonds are mined kind of deep, that Sebastian doesn't want that. Because in all seriousness, who doesn't want that? Someone who loves them and does couple-y things with them, who swaps clothes and kisses them over coffee and says sweet nothings into each others' ears? But Sebastian's never had that, because all everyone ever seems to want is a quick fuck, and by now he's convinced himself that that's all he wants too. And then people like Blaine come along; sweet, caring, romantic, simple, _naïve_ Blaine, and now Sebastian's not sure of anything he used to think about life and love: that sex is all there is to relationships really, nothing lasts forever, and romance is for suckers.

But Sebastian knows that that's how things work. His first party, when he was fourteen and stupid, he got drunk even though his dad would be furious, and sometime later, after several orgasms and feeling like he was _hot _and _sexy _and _desirable _and other adjectives he wouldn't have used previously to describe himself, he woke up in a strange bed with a hangover and a sore ass. And the guy he lost his virginity to (who was about four years older and very sexy) and whose name he doesn't remember, if he ever knew it, was already out of bed and half-dressed. And when Sebastian asked him where he was going and why so soon, he just laughed and said "Kid, that's just how it goes" before clapping him on the shoulder, thanking him for a "fun" night, and skedaddling. And Sebastian remembers thinking _huh, so that's how it works,_ and the next time he left first even though he didn't want to, and by his twentieth time any childish dreams of romance are longgone.

Sex has become a plaything for Sebastian. As natural as breathing. He meets a guy, at Scandals or elsewhere, and before either of them knows it, they're fucking (Sebastian has long ago dispensed with such terms as "making love" because there's no such thing). And after that, Sebastian always leaves, and it's so routine that he doesn't really have any friends, cause everyone he meets he ends up screwing. Hell, even his coming-out of sorts was his dad walking in on Sebastian sixty-nining with some guy (Sebastian had set that up accidentally-on-purpose to spare the awkwardness of a sit-down talk; at least this way he could see the look on his dad's face and laugh).

But now, it seems, all he's learnt about life and love and sex has flown out the window, and he's imagining Blaine wearing his lacrosse jersey and coming to his games and going for coffee after Warblers practice, and while he's not as far gone as roses and love songs, he's coming pretty damn close and it confuses and ashames him. And he wants to blame someone who's not him or Blaine, but he knows the blame rests on both their shoulders. And even then, it's mostly Sebastian.

Sebastian's given up on Blaine, sort of. Kind of. Not really, since he keeps hoping that a miracle will happen and Blaine will leave Kurt and give Sebastian what he's secretly always wanted, even though the second Kurt showed up Sebastian knew he was screwed. But Blaine is hopelessly in love (which does exist, Sebastian's just been in denial, and he knows that because he's _jealous_) and worse, Sebastian doesn't know how to _ask._ He can't just stroll up to Blaine and say _hey, I'm sort of secretly in love with you and you've flipped everything I know upside down; want to leave the boyfriend you're so devoted to and heal my broken heart?_ So he hides, behind snarky comments and a smug, superior air and a false assurance that eventually he'll win, even though he won't. Because he has no idea what he'll do when (_not if)_ he's shot down.


End file.
